


Seven First Kisses

by Mishafer



Series: Saturating the Reibert tag with Actual Reibert Fics [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Reibert Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafer/pseuds/Mishafer
Summary: Before Reiner and Bertholdt shared their first kiss on the lips, they shared six other kinds: a forehead kiss, blown kiss, hand kiss, cheek kiss, emoji kiss, and top of the head kiss.This chronicles each of them spanning from childhood to high school. As well as the times Reiner really wanted to kiss Bertholdt but couldn't work up the nerve.For the Reibert Week prompt "Childhood."





	Seven First Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Reibert Week! This piece is the most fun I've had crafting a story in a long time. My first ever AU! Let me say it was a blast as well as a challenge taking everything I know about Reiner and Bertl (plus the other warriors), and adapting them to how I think they might be in a modern setting. Was so therapeutic to give them happiness too.
> 
> Background pairs are Annie/Mikasa, Galliard/Pieck, and brief Marcel/Sasha. A few others mentioned in passing.

Reiner was eight and Bertholdt seven when they had their first kiss.

Two brothers from their second grade class, Marcel and Porco Galliard, were having Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Pieck over for their first sleepover. The Galliard’s home was a castle to the visiting children. Sporting three stories, seven bedrooms, and a pool. The sprawling family room hosted their sleepover, all children dozing in their sleeping bags. That was until an abrupt change of position from Bertholdt earned Reiner a kick in the nose.

Reiner bolted awake, moaning and grabbing his injured appendage. The sharp pain forced tears to his eyes, blurring his vision.

Bertholdt and Annie awoke also, Bertholdt’s sleepy eyes going wide. “Did I kick you?” he asked. Reiner gave a nod, and the other boy scrambled out of his sleeping bag. ”Oh gosh, Reiner, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Tears streamed down the blond's flushed cheeks.

_Stop crying, Reiner! You weren’t even kicked that hard!_

Annie fell back on her pillow. The serious girl didn’t seem to find their laments worth getting up for.

Bertholdt shuffled over. “Uh, maybe we can get ice for it? Um, isn’t that what you do?”

“It’s—”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Porco grumbled into his pillow from several sleeping bags away. He and Reiner never got along well. Stemming from the mudball Porco threw at Reiner out of jealousy when he and Marcel first started playing together.

Marcel nudged his brother with his foot, saying, “ _You_ shut up.”

Reiner figured the Marcel must have been too drowsy to realize he was hurt, or he would be up trying to help. He started to ask for his help since the other boy had an answer for everything, but he was too embarrassed to let him of all people see him cry.

“Is it bleeding?” Pieck asked, head in her hand. Had she even been sleeping? He always thought the girl very odd.

“Oh no!” Bertholdt whispered. “Is it?” Reiner’s lowered his hand and Bertholdt breathed a sigh. “Not bleeding.”

Thank goodness! But what if the Galliards found out about this? What if they never let them come over again? What if Reiner’s mom didn’t want him to be around Bertholdt anymore because he hurt him? He couldn’t let that happen. Although he and Bertholdt had only been friends for a few months—since Reiner and his mother moved there—he couldn’t bear the thought of no longer being friends.

They met when Reiner had fallen off the slide at recess. Bertholdt rushed over and helped him to his feet. The other boy was shy, his existing friend, Marcel, doing most of the talking, but he felt a certain kinship with Bertholdt. They both had a love of rock tumblers that Marcel failed to understand.

“I think we need to get ice,” Reiner said. “I don’t want them to know.” He held his nose again, the throbbing continuing.

Bertholdt followed Reiner out of the family room and into the large, dim kitchen. Tiny feet tiptoed across the immaculately clean linoleum.

“Uh…” Bertholdt’s hand stopped on the refrigerator's automatic ice maker. “Do we put it directly on?”

Reiner sniffled. “On TV it’s always in something.” He gasped when he recalled his face could swell. “Is my face swollen?”

He squinted. “Not that I can tell in the dark. Does it still hurt?” Reiner didn’t want to admit it, but he gave a nod.

His chin trembled. “I—I don’t know how to make it better without one of those things for the ice—and I…” They stared at each other for a moment. Bertholdt then shut his eyes and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.

Reiner stilled, the feel of wet lips lingering on his skin. “What—what did you do that for?”

He glanced down. “Uh, my mom kisses my forehead whenever I’m hurt or sick. I thought maybe...”

“Oh. Well, th—thank you.”

He looked back up, a tiny smile on his face. “You’re welcome. Still wanna try ice?”

“I think it’ll be fine. Doesn’t hurt that much anymore. I think you made it better.”

* * *

Reiner was ten and Bertholdt nine when they had their second kiss.

On Christmas day, Reiner had been allowed to go over to Bertholdt’s house to play his new Gamecube. His ear rang when Bertholdt gushed about the gift over the phone. Reiner was a tad jealous. He and his mother were by themselves and lived paycheck-to-paycheck. Meaning he didn't get much for Christmas. Bertholdt’s family wasn’t wealthy, but they had enough to where he and his younger adopted sister, Mina, always got more than Reiner did.

After over an hour of playing  _Star Fox: Assault_ , they took a break, setting the controllers down beside them on Bertholdt’s bed twin bed. Game music played on the title screen.

“Have you talked to Marcel yet today?” Bertholdt asked.

“I called but no one picked up,” Reiner answered. “Figured they were still sleeping.”

“No, no. I called earlier and got their mom. She said last night after we went home from the party, Ymir ate Marcel’s gingerbread man.”

Marcel and Porco had decorated thirty gingerbread men to the likeness of friends and family. Each person was to receive the cookie of themself.

Reiner giggled. “Ymir ate gingerbread Marcel?”

Bertholdt giggled too. “Yeah. Then Porco got so mad because she ate one that wasn’t hers he ate her gingerbread man.”

“Aw, I can't believe we missed that. Seeing him get mad is so funny.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Silence settled, and Reiner glanced around the room. Bertholdt was the only kid he knew who wanted pictures of his family in his room. They included his mother, father, adopted sister, and various other relatives. A wave of sadness struck. Reiner’s father had left shortly before he and his mother moved there and hadn’t been heard from since. His father's family was unknown while Karina’s was tiny and lived states away. Bertholdt’s pictures were what Reiner wanted. The kind of family where every hurdle made them stronger instead of destroying them.

“Something wrong?” Bertholdt asked.

Reiner bit his lip. “I can tell you anything, right?”

“Of course.”

“I’m really jealous of you.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Jealous? Why?”

“It's like, you have your whole family around you for Christmas. You actually have your dad.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“I’m not mad at you or anything, it’s not even that your parents are together. I mean, Annie’s aren’t but they find a way to come together and have Christmas and stuff.”

“I’m sorry, Reiner. I wish it was different for you. I wish your dad would come back.”

He fiddled with his hands. “Me too. I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I don’t think it was you, I think it was him. That maybe he was just scared. He’ll probably come back one day, and he’s stupid if he doesn’t. He’s missing out big time.”

“Really?”

He smiled. “Yeah. You and your mom are awesome, I can’t believe he didn’t want to stay with you.”

“Thanks, Bertholdt.”

“And if he doesn’t, you always have me. And Marcel, and Annie, and Pieck.”

“You sure Annie even likes us?”

“Why would she hang around us if she didn’t? I think she’s a huge softie inside. Probably cries at movies like The Titanic.”

The giggle returned. “I can’t imagine.”

“Oh, hey.” Bertholdt kissed the tip of his fingers and then blew a puff of air across them toward Reiner. “There.”

“Huh?”

“Like at our first sleepover. I figured you didn’t want my spit on you again.”

His chest warmed. “Oh. Thanks.” He smooched the tip of his own fingers blew Bertholdt a kiss. “There.”

“Thanks. You feel any better now?”

“Getting better.”

* * *

Reiner was twelve and Bertholdt eleven when they had their third kiss.

Zeke Jaeger was cool. Like, really cool. Everyone knew it. Even people who thought themselves above that mess like Annie couldn’t hide their awe whenever the teen sped by on his motorcycle, bare muscular chest glistening in the sun. Zeke was also Eren Jaeger’s older half-brother. Which Eren milked for everything it was worth. Giving a toothy grin whenever Zeke came to pick him up from school (in a car, Eren’s mother had screamed bloody murder when she found out Zeke had taken her ten-year-old son on a motorcycle).

So when Zeke offered to take a few of the Eren’s school buddies out for laser tag, they were ecstatic. Numerous children begging Eren to pick them for the outing. Eren first chose his two best friends, Mikasa and Armin. Then his frenemy, Marcel, who pressed him to invite Reiner, Bertholdt, and Porco. Pieck and Annie managed to wriggle their way in too. Others called Zeke insane for taking out nine children between the ages of ten and twelve but Zeke just shrugged. He never turned away from any challenge.

Since there were nine kids, they had chosen Annie to be a wildcard and steal the flag from anyone she came across. Unconventional, but it worked.

“Porco!” Marcel shouted through the dark laser tag arena. “Reiner’s on our team! Stop blocking him!”

“Oh, is he?” Porco replied, pouting. “Sorry.”

Reiner groaned. “Come on, man. I really—”

Armin swiped Porco’s flag and chuckled before bouncing away.

“Goddamnit!” Marcel yelled. He got scary when competition was involved.

“I think you need to take a breather,” Reiner said. “It’s just a game.”

“Just a game?  _Just a game_? Nothing is ‘just a game,’ Reiner!” He bolted in Armin’s direction.

“Okay, pal.”

At the end, opposing team leaders Marcel and Eren almost came to blows. Marcel had lost by a few points and deemed it unfair.

“This was supposed to be fun,” Mikasa griped.

They both just looked her dead in the eye and unison said, “This is fun.”

Marcel did eventually accept defeat, and they went for the incredible cheeseburgers the restaurant extension had. All was forgotten as Eren and Marcel chattered away like best friends.

Bertholdt and Reiner sat beside each other at the long table. Reiner gave Bertholdt the pickles from his burger—he hated pickles, Bertholdt loved them. And Bertholdt gave Reiner his tomatoes—he hated tomatoes, Reiner loved them. A large dollop of ketchup rested on a paper plate between them. Both preferred to dip the burger in the condiment rather than slather it on. More control over the amount of ketchup and less slipping and sliding of the burger contents.

Reiner was certain he and Bertholdt had perfected the art of eating cheeseburgers.

“So Bertholdt,” Zeke began, wiping his hands on the napkin in his lap, “you don’t talk much. When you do talk, what do you say?”

Ugh, every word from his mouth was so eloquently phrased.

Bertholdt swallowed a mouthful of pickle. “Uh… I like reading.”

“Ah? What do you read?”

Reiner knew what the stiff expression on Bertholdt’s face meant. His friend’s mind always went blank when put on the spot.

“He loves adventure,” Reiner cut in. “And fantasy type stuff. Like Gregor the Overlander.”

Zeke nodded knowingly, a small smile on his lips. “It’s a good read. You have fine taste.”

Bertholdt lit up. Impressing Zeke was no small feat.

Afterwards, they took a few bathroom trips, the large sodas having gone right through.

Reiner waited in the alcove by the restroom entrance. When Bertholdt passed he went, “Pssst.” His friend joined him and leaned in. “Did you see that Porco got a  _bacon_  cheeseburger?”

“Yeah?”

“Cannibalism.”

They both burst into a fit of laughter. “Reiner, that’s so bad!”

“I know. Couldn’t help it. He kept blocking me. Oh, you have ketchup on your hand.”

Bertholdt looked down at the red mark on the back of his hand. “Guess I’m bad at soap.” Reiner got a twinkle in his eye, grabbed his hand, and flicked his tongue over the ketchup before circling it with his lips.

Bertholdt jerked his hand back. “Gah!”

“Hah, told you I’d get you.”

Months before, Reiner had won thirty-two of of fifty games of rock, paper, scissors. The loser had agreed to one day accept being licked when they least suspected it.

Bertholdt wiped his hand on his pants. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”

Reiner beamed. “I made a promise. ‘You  _will_  get licked and it  _will_  be gross.’”

“Yeah. Was more of a kiss though.”

“Uh, no. That was a slobbery lick.”

“Kiss.”

“I—it was not. I’ll do it again.” He reached for his friend’s hand when he lurched back.

“No, no way!”

“Boys!” Zeke called.

* * *

Reiner was thirteen and Bertholdt twelve when they had their fourth kiss.

“Hey! You guys look awesome!” Marcel cheered, leading his friends through the small Halloween gathering of parents and children in his upscale living room. His exuberance made it clear he had already hit the candy stash. He donned a Prince costume complete with on-point eyeliner, a flashy purple coat, and curly wig.

Reiner had Pieck help craft himself a Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde outfit: a half black and half white suit complete with a stylish top hat. His mother painted half his face in ghoulish makeup. The costume had him beaming with pride.

“Uh, Mister Potter?” Marcel questioned Bertholdt with a stifled laugh.

“Hey, it was last minute,” Bertholdt said. The only thing that really made him recognizable as the wizard were the round glasses and makeshift wand.

Marcel threw his arms around both of them, urging them upstairs “You have to see Pieck’s costume. There’s a reason she didn’t tell anyone about it beforehand. She scared the hell out of Porco earlier. It was hilarious.”

The thought made Reiner smile as they entered the cozy upstairs den. Pieck sat on her knees before an old tube TV turned to static. Her dark hair hung around her face and she was dressed in a long white gown.

_Samara from The Ring?_

When they got closer he saw how realistic her makeup was. Her face pale and rotted, even sporting contacts that made her eyes appear cloudy.

Reiner flinched. “Oh, f—”

Bertholdt gripped Reiner’s shoulder. “Wow, that’s—”

Pieck blinked her lifeless eyes. “Did I scare you?”

“Yeah,” Marcel cut in, moving over and grabbing an open package of Twizzlers from the end table by the door. “But not as much as Porco. She was crawling around when he first saw her, and—” He started laughing again. “He did this little squeal—”

“The pig squeal?” Reiner asked.

“Yeah. Now he won’t even come in here.” He chomped down on a red Twizzler. "The Ring didn't even scare him but real life Samara is different apparently."

“It’s a pretty impressive costume,” Annie said from across the room.

Reiner hadn’t noticed Annie was there with Pieck’s startling appearance. Annie sat on a loveseat watching a monster movie on mute with subtitles flashing across the screen. She wore a modest black cat costume along with painted on whiskers and a nose.

“Pieck,” Bertholdt started, “are you sure it’s best to really be scaring people like that?”

“Halloween is about fear,” Pieck replied. “It was invented to scare away evil spirits. Most costumes these days just make those spirits laugh. Reiner has the right idea, Annie’s is just shy of acceptable, but look at you.” She nodded at Reiner and Marcel. “Not remotely scary. Shameful.”

“Pieck is exactly right,” Zeke’s voice boomed from the doorway behind them.  _Where did he come from?_  “All Hallow’s Eve is about inciting terror ad wreaking havoc.”

“When’d you get here, man?” Reiner asked. The older boy wore no costume.

“Been coming and going around various parties this evening. My younger brother and his friends were too occupied for what I had in mind so... I was wondering if you’d like to help me with something?”

Zeke wanted their assistance!?

“Sure!” Marcel replied, eyes sparkling. “Yeah, what is it?”

* * *

Zeke told the parents he was taking Marcel, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie—he offered Pieck, but she wanted to stay by her TV prop—out to see the Halloween decorations around various neighborhoods.

When they pressed him what they were really doing, he answered, “You'll see. None of you have older siblings, and since my father and Carla weren’t letting Eren and his friends from their sight this evening, I thought I’d take it upon myself to treat you all to what it is to grow up.”

As they rode several blocks over, the sizes of the homes decreased but were just as elegant.

Zeke parked his sedan on a particularly dark and vacant patch of street. “Perfect,” he said with a smirk. “Bertholdt, you should probably take off your glasses for this.”

Bertholdt gulped in the backseat. “Why?” He removed the spectacles.

“Like I said, you’ll see.” He opened his door and the other kids climbed out—Annie having been given the passenger’s seat. He circled around and opened the trunk.

Reiner’s heartrate spiked. He knew exactly what Zeke’s plan was; vandalism.

“Whoa! That’s awesome!” Marcel exclaimed as the teen pulled out a large brown fur suit. “Is that King Kong?”

Reiner sure hadn't expected  _that_.

“Yes, it is,” Zeke replied, removing his shirt and pants before climbing inside the costume.

Bertholdt stood still, beginning to sweat. Reiner squeezed his hand and whispered, “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

Bertholdt shook his head. “I do want to. I want to adventurous.”

Marcel was bouncing on his feet when Zeke handed him a carton of eggs and roll of toilet paper. “Yes, yes!”

“We after anyone in particular?” Annie asked, taking a can of silly string.

“Yes,” Zeke declared. “Principal Erwin Smith of Maria High.”

“Your school?”

And their future school, Reiner noted.

“Precisely.”

“W—what did he do to deserve this?” Bertholdt asked.

“Very long story,” Zeke replied and dropped a cherry-sized ball in Bertholdt’s hands. “But trust me, he does deserve it.”

“Aw, come on, details,” Reiner pressed.

“He called me a monkey for one thing. Hence the suit.”

Bertholdt gazed at the little ball in his palm. “Wait, what is this?”

“A stinkbomb for his birdbath.”

“That’s all he gets?” Reiner said.

“I figured Bertholdt would be morally conflicted about this, so I gave him the least destructive task.”

He closed his fist over the stink bomb. “No, I want to do something destructive too. I’m just as capable as them.”

“Sure you can handle it?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Alright.” Zeke handed out a few more supplies—including a gorilla mask, then shut the hatch before placing the mask over his head.

Reiner was starting to think Zeke might be a little unhinged. After all, the goal was to remain unseen, so why the ironic costume if their target was never meant to see it?

But to each their own.

They skulked down the sidewalk and stopped upon reaching a white Greek revival house. No lights were on. There was no car in the driveway, but there was a closed garage.

“He’s not home?” Reiner asked.

“No,” Zeke replied, his voice muffled by the mask. “Annie, Marcel, to the right side. Bertholdt, Reiner, to the left. The birdbath is in the back, but fenced in. How good is your aim, Bertholdt?”

“Pretty good, actually,” he answered.

“Good. Now disperse!” he whisper-yelled and took off toward the front. Marcel and Annie darted toward their side and Bertholdt and Reiner toward theirs. Zeke remained up front.

Adrenaline crashed through Reiner's veins. As if his feet glided across the grass while he sprayed loopy strings of orange silly string across the bay windows. He hopped up and down, cackling silently to himself. After Bertholdt returned from the back fence, he sailed a roll of toilet paper over the roof.

“Whoa! Good throw!” Reiner praised. “You get the birdbath?”

“Yeah,” Bertholdt replied with a curt nod, and sailed another roll over the roof.

“Bertholdt, Bertholdt, Bertholdt!” Reiner chanted in a whisper, bounding back and decorating the chimney with more silly string. A smile spread across his friend’s face.

They headed toward the corner, Bertholdt continuing to paper the house while Reiner ran out of silly string.

“He only gave me one can,” Reiner said, jamming down on the spray nozzle.

Bertholdt shoved Reiner behind two trash cans by the curb, Reiner falling against his chest.

“Shhh,” Bertholdt said into his ear. His pounding heart hammered in his ears.

The front porch illuminated as the door opened and tall man with a severe eye and heavy brow studied the yard. Reiner assumed that was the infamous Erwin. All the mayhem so far was  _on_  the house, so Erwin must have missed it since he finally shut the door behind him.

The two remained still for a few moments, harsh breaths filling the air.

“Phew!” Reiner sighed. “Bertl, you saved me!” He pressed a rough kiss to his friend’s cheek. “Ha ha!”

Bertholdt giggled. “Ick.” He pulled him up by his hand and they scurried down the sidewalk for the car. “I can’t believe we actually did that. Oh god, if our parents—”

“Don’t even say that. Zeke’s cool. He won't rat us out. And we won't rat him out.”

Their giddiness dropped when they saw the car abandoned. Still hand-in-hand, they surveyed the area to see none of their comrades.

“Oh no,” Bertholdt murmured. “Do you think Erwin…?”

Reiner chewed his tongue. "They're probably just hiding."

But if they had been caught, he and Bertholdt would have to fess up too. He knew Annie, Marcel, and himself could withstand being chastised by their parents, but Bertholdt would be mortified. Reiner felt the sudden urge to hide him somewhere so he wouldn’t be around if Erwin found them. Though with no alibi and way to get home, the idea died as soon as it crossed his mind.

Thundering footsteps and the looming figure of Zeke’s gorilla costume appeared beside two smaller silhouettes.

Zeke pulled off his mask and reached the car, hopping in the front seat. “Hurry, damnit!”

The remaining four filed inside. Zeke gunned the engine and took off down the road. Bertholdt and Reiner still squeezed each other’s hands. Relief filed Reiner system.

Marcel vibrated in his seat. “That was awesome, Zeke! Oh my god, I want to do this every Halloween but to like ten houses and with even bigger—”

“Marcel,” Zeke interrupted. “Calm yourself.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“It was a lot of fun, actually,” Annie said, smile in her tone.

“But we didn’t get his front yard,” Zeke said with a sigh. “I didn’t think he’d be home sitting in the dark. Discouraging trick-or-treaters I guess. Though I’d say despite that hiccup, our mission was a success.”

“Really!?” Marcel asked. "We won!?"

“Yes. Now remember,  _calm_  thoughts.”

Bertholdt lolled his head against Reiner’s shoulder. By the time they neared the house, he had nodded off despite Marcel’s loud ramblings. Reiner smiled at his sleeping friend. Like a little puppy who played too hard and fell asleep half-standing. He hated to wake him once they arrived back at Marcel’s house.

“Bertl,” Reiner began, nudging his shoulder, “we’re back.”

He flinched awake. “What time is it?”

He glanced at the car radio clock. “Eight-thirty-one.”

Zeke clicked open his door. “Now as far as they know, we had some nice, wholesome fun. Right?”

“Right,” they agreed in unison.

* * *

Reiner was fourteen and Bertholdt thirteen when they had their fifth kiss.

Puberty was in full swing. Marcel and Porco were dead set on the punk rock and its fashion.  _“Not emo! Stop calling us emo! We’re not Jaeger!”_  they had declared. Marcel also decided he wanted to be called by his middle name, Berwick. And Porco to be called by his last name which absolutely no one blamed him for. Including even his parents.

Annie had grown close to Mikasa who pulled her into the goth subculture. The two sported an impressive black wardrobe complemented by extensive knowledge about real goth music. Annie often schooled other students that Marilyn Manson and Evanescence were  _not goth_. It always earned a proud smirk from Mikasa.

Pieck had taken to photography and modeling… sort of. She would don lolita dresses and be photographed in awkward positions and places. A frilly purple and pink dress while hunched over a back alley trash can. Or in funeral garb on all fours in front of an IHOP. Mikasa and Annie found it interesting enough to help her with photo-taking.

That left Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner surprised everyone by growing taller and filling out. Finding a love for athleticism and the school’s sport of lacrosse. People kept asking what happened to ‘little Reiner,’ and to his great pleasure, he told them ‘little Reiner doesn’t work here anymore.’ He spent more time admiring himself in the mirror than he cared to admit.

Bertholdt had grown considerably as well, yet failed to fill out. Hitting six feet tall at age thirteen (and still growing) much to his discontent. His natural shyness turning to self-consciousness as his closest friends were the outgoing Reiner and Berwick. He clung to them like glue. Reiner never minded his introversion, but knew Bertholdt was secretly certain he did.

Though Bertholdt’s height came in handy, as did Reiner’s physique, making them look a bit older. So no questions were asked when the two biked over to the local ice cream parlor after school. Bertholdt’s appetite was enormous. Ordering a large bowl of butter pecan while Reiner chose a modest small sundae. They sat across from each other in a booth by the window.

Reiner shivered from the air conditioner paired with the frozen dessert. “So I asked Historia out,” he said.

Bertholdt choked on his ice cream. “You what? Why?”

“Eh, I thought we’d look cute together. Turns out she’s not into guys though. Like at all.”

He coughed before swallowing. “Yeah, that’s why I just choked a little.”

“You knew?”

“Well, yeah. Everyone does. I think she has a thing for Ymir too. Who’s the biggest lesbian anyone's ever known.”

“That’s true. Even I know that.” He spooned a strawberry from his sundae. “I guess I don’t have the gaydar thing.”

“Ha, yeah, but why were you asking out Historia? I thought you were—or that you might…”

“Might what?”

“Like guys. At least more so than girls.”

Truth be told, he had never had a crush on a girl. He thought maybe his interest in Historia was a crush, but he only felt the desire to hang out with her. The thought of kissing and touching her aroused no butterflies.

“You think?”

He straightened. “If you are or not, then it doesn’t matter. I just I’ve never seen you check out girls, and you do stare at guys sometimes.”

He noticed that, huh?

“I do?”

He laughed a bit. “Yeah. Like especially Moblit.”

His cheeks reddened. Moblit was their science teacher, Miss Zoe’s, lab assistant. With his sweet smile and kind demeanor... “I might. But it’s not like you talk about that stuff as openly either. I had to pry out your love for Petra.”

It was Bertholdt’s turn to blush. “Yeah, well...” Petra was their school counselor. She had a long line of students with a crush on her.

“With her pink sweaters and rose perfume and ‘I believe in you, Bertholdt,’ and hugs with her perky tits against your—”

“Okay, okay.” The blush spread to his ears as he dug back into his ice cream. He was so cute when he got flustered. “Oh, are you saying you’re not gay?”

“No, just wanted to bring up the Petra thing to make fun of you with.”

“Right.” He shook his head and rimmed his cup with his fingers before licking off the melted ice cream. “So if you could ask out any boy, who would it be?" He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. So cute.

“To be honest, there’s been no boys our age I like. So I thought maybe I did like girls and just only liked older guys so far. I don’t know really know why I asked out Historia. Just felt like at this point I should.”

“Well, the only thing you should be doing is asking out someone you like. Because you want to, not because you feel like you have to, you know?”

“Yeah. That makes sense." He glanced at the round clock by the exit. "Oh, hey it’s past time to go.”

He checked the clock as well. “Whoops. Yeah, it is time.”

They cleaned up and went their separate ways. Reiner biked home, the conversation about sexuality heavy in his mind. Ymir might be someone to talk with about it. She was quite crass, but he felt she would take sexuality questions seriously. She really wasn’t as cold as she seemed.

When he got home, he exchanged small talk with his frazzled mother, and pet his golden retriever, Rebel. Annie had found the dog on the side of the road several years prior. Since her apartment didn't allow pets, she offered him to Reiner who eagerly accepted. Bertholdt and Annie often joked the dog was so much like Reiner in energy and playfulness it was like having two of him.

Reiner had just settled on the sofa beside the dog when his phone chimed.

A text from Bertholdt read:  _I’m so so so sorry I forgot to say if you’re gay I totally support you!_

Reiner laughed and pressed his palm to his face. Bertholdt. That adorable idiot.

He answered:  _haha I know. goes without saying bud._

Bertholdt’s next text was three kiss emojis instantly followed by:  _Oh whoops I meant to send smileys it was right next to the kiss one in recently used._

Reiner again laughed in his hand. Only Bertholdt could accidentally click the kiss emoji three times and press send before realizing his mistake.

He replied:  _hey nothing wrong with kisses for this occasion_. He then added six kiss emojis.

Bertholdt said:  _At least buy me dinner first_. A winking emoji was tacked on the end.

Reiner was at a loss for a response. Talking to Bertholdt was as easy as breathing, but he came up blank for a proper reply. He set the phone down beside him and untied his shoes. Looking at the phone screen again, he figured no reply would be no big deal. Just the end of a short conversation.

Rebel laid his head in Reiner's lap when the tone dinged again:  _So which book did you choose for that assignment?_

Phew. No weirdness.

* * *

Reiner was sixteen and Bertholdt fifteen when Reiner first thought about kissing him on the lips.

Everyone seemed to be dating now in some fashion.

Mikasa had announced to those interested, “Annie is my girlfriend,” with the warmest smile Reiner had ever seen on her. No surprise. The two held hands more than most platonic friends.

Marcel—who was back from Marcel from Berwick after growing out of his punk phase—had become somewhat of a ladies man. First, he dated Hitch for a month. Then Ilse for two months. Now Sasha for the last few weeks. Earning glares from Connie every time they walked past. Galliard—who was also no longer punk but kept his new name—and Pieck denied anything more between them, yet both suspiciously showed little interest in anyone else.

It took roughly a year, but Reiner realized he was infact gay. Helped by Ymir’s utmost certainty he was, paired with hers and Historia’s coming out as a couple themselves. He dated one boy named Craig for a short while. Sharing a chaste kiss a few times. Though he had yet to experience that classic teenage puppy love. Maybe he just had to wait for the right person, he figured.

Bertholdt shunned the notion altogether. Having become more withdrawn than ever and Reiner ached seeing him so down. Though when Bertholdt showed a shy interest in the taekwondo class Annie and Mikasa attended—which was taught by the latter’s uncle, Levi—Reiner and Marcel encouraged him to sit in on a session. To Reiner’s delight, Bertholdt had interest in participating and signed up for classes.

Reiner pushed open the door to the martial arts school and made his way across the large training area to the back. He was late, having been delayed by a traffic accident.

“Hey, how’d you do?” Reiner asked, looming in the doorway to the back resting room. Bertholdt sat already dressed beside Annie and Mikasa. It looked like everyone else had left.

“Quite well,” a voice answered from behind him.

Reiner whirled around to Levi, their miniature instructor. “Oh f—scared the shit out of me, man. I mean, sir.”

“Mm, you have terrible reflexes for an ‘athlete.’ Why are your hands up in submission?”

_Because you’re fucking terrifying!?_

He lowered his hands. “Bad reflexes, apparently. Thanks for the observation. I’ll work on that. So you said he did well?”

Levi narrowed his eyes at Bertholdt. “He has promise.”

Reiner beamed. “I’m so not surprised.”

“He slouches too much though,” Annie commented, standing up alongside Mikasa.

“She’s right, buddy,” Reiner said. “Straighten your back.” He knew Bertholdt did so to minimize his height.

“Maybe later when I’m less tired,” Bertholdt said, resting against the bench.

“Not slouching doesn’t require any real effort,” Mikasa said, eyeing him up and down.

Bertholdt pouted and said to Levi, “Can I ignore everything you just taught me and lie face-down on the floor and feel sorry for myself?”

“I suppose,” he answered with a faint smirk. “But you have five minutes.”

Annie and Mikasa linked hands and followed Levi back out into the training area.

“Those three are the most terrifying people I’ve met in my entire life. I’m so impressed you survived them.”

“Scarier than principal Smith?"

"About the same. I'm still half-sure he's gonna corner me one day and say, 'I know what you did.'" He mock shuddered. Zeke had never taken them out for anything else fun after that night. Last he heard, he had started a band in some other town. "So... were Annie and Mikasa fun? Did Jean and Marco show up too?"

"You mean 'how did you do playing with the other kids while I wasn't here?'"

"Huh?"

"That’s why you and Marcel and my parents insisted I go alone. So I can make friends outside of you two. Because while I’m technically friends with Annie and Mikasa, I never spend time with them when you and Marcel aren’t around.”

“Uh, well I—”

“It’s fine. I get what you’re all trying to do. I was actually really mad at first, but this felt really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Even though I’m tired and martial arts is scary, you’re fighting, I see why people do it. Makes you feel in control. Capable.”

“Because you are capable. The only thing you’ve ever not been capable of it believing that. You really are amazing.”

He hid a smile. “You always say stuff like that.”

“Because it's true. And hey, I'm sorry about not-so-subtly trying to push you into hanging out with other people.”

"It's fine. I know I need to. That's one of the reasons I wanted this. And thanks for encouraging me to."

"You're welcome."

He scratched the back of his head. “You know, I actually have a lot to thank you for.”

"You do?"

"Yeah. The past years I’ve been so afraid that you might leave me, and you didn't."

His eyebrows shot up. “Leave you? Why?”

“Not on purpose. I just worried you and Marcel would grow out of me. I feel like such a third wheel sometimes.”

“Please, Marcel and I would’ve crashed and burned without you.”

He laughed, illuminating his features. The sound claimed Reiner’s ears like beautiful music. “That’s true. But it was you guys, well you especially, who inspired me. I’ve always wanted to be more like you.”

“Like me?”

“You were a lot different when we met. You've really grown a lot.”

“When we first met, my dad just left, and moved to a new town. I'd like to think I'm not a heaving ball of patheticness anymore.”

“You're not. You became amazing too.”

His face grew warm and he offered a low hum from his throat. “Thanks.”

"Of course." Bertholdt shut his eyes and lolled his head against the textured wall.

Reiner loved when he looked like that. Soft smile painted on his lips, body relaxed, chest rising and falling slowly. His tan skin seemed to glow under the room’s top light. The light created a shine on his dark hair and bangs gathered haphazardly on his forehead. He admired the profile of his Roman nose—the nose Bertholdt himself always hated.

_“At least you don’t have this weird dent in your bridge,”_  Reiner had tried to reassure him.

Bertholdt had reached just shy of six-four. Sure, Reiner was only a few inches shorter, but his own height was never what was noticed first. It was his physique instead. But Bertholdt’s lanky frame always caught people’s eye first—it certainly always caught Reiner’s. Like now and the way his long legs jutted up at the knees as he rested his feet on the floor. And his long torso that would take one’s hand a considerable amount of time to work its way up. Leading to his face and—

The way his lips gripped the plastic lid of the Gatorade bottle as he took a swig. A faint suckle as he glugged the red beverage and swipe of his tongue as he licked them clean.

An urge formed deep in Reiner’s gut to take some sort of action. He needed to move, to do something about how gorgeous Bertholdt was. Like press his mouth against his. The stray droplet of drink his tongue failed to catch joining between their lips. Before Reiner would lick it up and deepen the kiss. Warm breath mingling between their parted lips.

Reiner blinked harshly a few times.

Was he just thinking about kissing Bertholdt? His  _best friend_ , Bertholdt?

“Hey,” Bertholdt began, capping his Gatorade bottle, “I think it’s been more than five minutes. Surprised Levi hasn’t run us off with his mop.”

Reiner blinked again. “H—his what?” With where his mind was, it sounded like a euphemism.

“His mop. He’s a neat freak. He said he’d need it for how much I sweat all over earlier. Heh.”

Bertholdt’s vision remained on Reiner for a moment, his gaze unreadable. But Reiner couldn’t help but notice what a breathtaking shade of dark green his friend’s eyes were.

* * *

Bertholdt. Reiner’s best friend since second grade. Emphasis on friend. Though he couldn’t shake the new way he had seen him that evening after class. But that happened. People got weird temporary crushes on those they have known for a while. It would go away. Besides, Bertholdt was only interested in girls.

Reiner even set him up with Hannah and the two dated briefly. He knew he ought to be thrilled when it worked, but the sight of them together made him gnash his teeth. And when Bertholdt tentatively told him they had kissed, he wanted to plug his ears. At first he tried to convince himself it was because he was gay and why would he want to hear about kissing a girl? But he loved hearing Marcel tell him about his exploits with women. Even prying for info at times.

Because that’s what friends did.

In his desperation, he bypassed all the usual suspects for advice. Marcel, Annie, his mother, even Petra, and to someone who would only tell him the absolute truth.

Reiner sighed and laid his hands on the kitchen island, perched on a leather bar stool. “I know this is really weird, and I’m surprised you agreed to see me, so I’ll just come out and say it: I think I’m into Bertholdt.”

Galliard sat across from him with his arms crossed. “The fuck should I care for?”

“Because if you don't I’ll tell your mom you said the F-word again and she'll put another one of your allowance dollars in the swear jar.” He gestured over his shoulder where the jar in question sat in a wooden cupboard. She had it for Gaillard since he was six.

“Goddamnit.”

“It’s because you don’t care, that’s why I’m asking you. Everyone else is too close.”

“That actually kinda makes sense.”

“Yeah, so how and when did you realize you and Pieck were into each other?”

He stiffened. “What? Pieck and I aren’t—we’re not together. I don’t—she’s—”

“Oh, you’re still at that stage.” He leaned back. “Dude, she carries around antacids in her purse in case you need one. She comes up and massages your shoulders because you ‘look tense.’ I’ve heard her call you ‘piglet.’ She—”

“So you’re into Bertholdt, huh? Let’s talk about that.”

“Eh, well it sorta started last year after his first taekwondo class a while back. It was like the wool had been pulled from my eyes and I suddenly saw him as this—”

“Can’t girls and boys just be friends anymore!? God, our society is so—”

“You know what?” He stood up and raised a hand. “This was a mistake.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry. Sit back down. Don’t tell my mom about the swearing.”

He sat back down with a long sigh. “Alright then. As I was saying before your outburst, we had this moment after his first taekwondo class. I thought about kissing him. Like actual kissing of Bertholdt. On his lips. Ever since, I keep thinking about him like that more and more. I was so uncomfortable when he was dating Hannah even though I set them up. I guess I was trying to push him away so I could get over this stupid crush. But it just made it worse.”

“Well I’m pretty sure you’ve been in love with him for a long time. It’s hilarious you act like it’s this new thing.”

“Really…?”

“Oh, yeah, Marcel and I talk about it sometimes.”

“Why didn’t Marcel tell me I felt this way?” There was no way the guy knew he was into Bertholdt. If so, he’d pushing non-stop to get Reiner to confess.

“I told him he shouldn’t have to do everything for you. I mean, glory hallelujah you  _finally_  stopped riding his coattails.”

He suppressed a growl. Though he supposed he was right. Sort of. “Well, regardless, I’m totally aware of it now. I think about him all the time, about the way he smells, about how soft his skin is. Oh god his sun-hued skin…”

“That is gay as fuck.”

“I know, right? But it’s weird because we’ve been friends so long. And I know he likes girls, but am I totally delusional to think maybe there’s a chance?”

“No.”

He perked up, his heart blooming. “Really?”

“Yeah really. He’s into you too for some reason. Everyone knows it. Another thing Marcel and I talk about sometimes. And he’s probably bi or something, like half the school is LBQG-plus whatever. I’m one of the only straight people.”

“Aw, poor you.”

“Fuck you, Braun.”

He smirked. “So, you think I should tell him?”

“No, you should just grab him and kiss him. Absolutely no ‘oh, Bertl-bear, I think I might have  _feelings_  for you.’ ‘What? R—Reiner I don’t know— _sweatdrop, sweatdrop—_ before we do anything we should hold hands and have a nice long talk about it first.’ Psh.”

He rolled his eyes. They did not sound like that! “So I should just jam my tongue down his throat?”

“Yep. That’s how I’d want it. Rough and full of passion. You think it’d be weird, going from friends to more than that, but it’s not. It’s just so… right.” He stared off into space. “And then it’s just happening and it’s like the rest of the world ceases to exist. The two of you becoming one. Finally.”

_Oh yeah, he’s so not into Pieck._

“Yeah, I’m getting really uncomfortable so I’m gonna take off. Thanks, man.”

He crossed his arms did his famous pig snort. “Whatever.”

* * *

Pieck seldom had anyone over. She lived further away and Marcel’s house or Annie’s apartment were more convenient. So when she invited the group over for movie night—plus Annie’s date, Mikasa, and Marcel’s date, Sasha—they were surprised. However, when she added that she had a supply of weed to smoke, it made sense. Reiner jumped at the idea since the stuff cut his anxiety and could help him finally do what Galliard suggested and plant one on Bertholdt. He needed to do it, having mulled over the action for weeks.

“But you said we were gonna watch Marley and Me,” Sasha said, sitting on the paisley sofa in Pieck’s quaint living room.

“No,” Pieck said, shutting the curtains and darkening the room. “Change of plans. No Marley.”

Reiner knew it was going to be some horror flick. He just hoped it didn’t have ghosts. His fear of them began as a child when he first saw  _Casper the Friendly Ghost._  Yes, he was now almost grown and had amazing muscles, but ghosts physical strength meant nothing against a specter from another realm.

Pieck’s choice was indeed a horror movie. One he had never heard of that looked to be an independent film. Luckily, there were no ghosts. Just cannibalistic clowns. Okay. That was tolerable. Not his thing but he didn’t care about the movie. He barely absorbed any of it. His attention was devoted to Bertholdt, glimpsing him every chance he got. A thrill shooting through him whenever their thighs brushed together.

Reiner scanned the room and realized this looked like a group date. With all other seats taken, Annie sat on a pillow before Mikasa. Her head resting on her girlfriend’s knee who would thread her fingers through her blonde hair every so often. Pieck had a leg draped across Galliard’s lap, and Marcel had an arm wrapped around Sasha. Occasionally stroking her shoulder with his fingertips.

Reiner was so starved for that kind of affection he could feel a whine build in his throat. If only he could reach for Bertholdt’s hand, or lay across his lap, or rest his head on his shoulder… But despite the reassurance Bertholdt felt the same he was still terrified he would be rejected. That stepping over that line would ruin their friendship.

The movie ended and Marcel groaned in relief. “Thank god that’s over. That was terrible.”

“So bad,” Annie agreed.

“Oh, hush,” Pieck said. “You just have awful taste.” She stood. “Doesn’t matter. The best part of the evening is now.”

Sasha breathed in a gasp. “You mean the marijuana?”

Marcel patted her shoulder. “Just call it weed, princess.”

Marcel’s pet name made Reiner gooey inside. Goddamnit.

Pieck turned off the TV and the group cleaned up the room. Sasha and Bertholdt had obliterated a large bowl of kettle corn while the rest barely got any. Galliard and Annie grumbled about that fact.

Pieck escorted the them toward the back, passing her sewing machine on the way. She was more prolific with it than Reiner thought. Frilly Lolita-style dresses as well as simple garments cluttered the area. Watching her long green skirt swish as she pulled open the sliding glass door out, he wondered if she made all her own clothes.

The back yard was enclosed by a tall picket fence and full of various tools and knick-knacks. Its pallid lawn needed a mowing, but with the sky turning into an orange dusk, Reiner felt the atmosphere just fine for his and Bertholdt’s first real kiss.

Pieck dug into her large coat pocket and pulled out a ziploc bag with several joints.

“Your parents really okayed this?” Bertholdt asked, scratching his cheek.

Pieck nodded, unzipping the bag. “Dad's not here, but he's okay with it too. As long as we do it here where we can get my mom's help if we need it, it’s fine. And we can't bother my little brother. But he spends his life in his room so.”

Pieck’s parents had always been very lax. Of course, none of the other children’s parents knew that and they made sure to keep it that way. Reiner recalled the first time they got high. It was how he came out Pieck, Galliard, and Annie. Repeating  _'I'm gay'_  through his laughing fit. No one was surprised by his admission.

“Oh, heads-up,” she added. “It's mixed with some salvia and peyote.”

The group erupted into protest.

“Peyote?” Mikasa questioned, stepping forward. “Pieck, that’s a hallucinogen.”

“Yeah?”

“We didn’t want to drop acid!” Marcel exclaimed.

“Oh, relax. It’s not acid. I’ve done it before. Who has a light?”

“Do you have any regular at least?” Reiner asked.

“No,” she answered. "This was all Zeke gave me."

They all groaned again.

“Yeah, his mix made me throw up,” Galliard said. “And I tripped out and thought she was a mule and Zeke was riding her.”

She huffed and stuffed the bag back in her pocket. “Fine, fine. We won’t do anything. Just know we could have.”

“Your mom have any booze?” Annie asked, glancing back at the sliding door.

“We don’t drink.”

For god’s sake. How was he going to work up the courage now?

Sasha clasped her hands together. “Look, we can all just enjoy each other’s company without any mood-altering substances.”

Pieck’s eyebrows arched. “True. We can get high off each other’s energy.” She stepped over and took Bertholdt’s hand. Reiner laughed internally at the adorable way his lips formed a tight line. “If we link hands long enough you get a rush.”

Bertholdt put on a smile and took her other hand. ”Alright, let’s try that.”

“Pieck, don’t get stoned on Bertholdt,” Galliard said.

She scowled at him. “He likes it.”

Reiner stifled a laugh and Sasha held Marcel’s hand, saying, “I’ll just um, take him.”

“You’re holding his hand wrong,” Pieck told her.

Marcel sighed. “You know what, this is really not—”

“Hey,” Galliard cut in. “Pieck’s house, Pieck’s rules. We may not understand it, or like it, but it’s her decision. So let’s just...” He nudged Bertholdt away and linked his hands with Pieck's.

_Perfect!_

Reiner gripped Bertholdt’s hands and  _god_  did it feel good. Especially when Bertholdt gave a squeeze back.

Annie suggested—oh how Reiner loved Annie—they have these sessions alone. Naturally, the couples all paired with each other. Reiner found a spot with Bertholdt by the back corner of the fence.

“Feeling buzzed yet?” Reiner asked, his hands still locked with Bertholdt’s.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“But if you just  _believe_.” Bertholdt laughed and swung his arms a tad. “Ouch, don’t pull my arms off.”

He stopped. “Oh, sorry. I’m still in fight mode from class.”

“How’s that going?”

“Great. I've made more progress than Jean which he absolutely  _hates_. Actually, Levi says…”

“Says?”

“I’m one of the best and most talented students he’s ever had.”

Reiner grinned. “Are you serious? When did he say that?”

He looked away. “A few weeks ago.”

“Dude, you need to tell me this stuff!”

“I didn’t want to brag.”

“You of all people have the right to brag.”

“Nah, I think you do enough for both of us. ‘Guess how much I lifted today.’ Ugh.”

_You feisty bastard._

This was perfect. Bertholdt was at ease, joking (flirting?), and they were alone. All Reiner had to do was pull him in and—

“Marcel!” a feminine scream echoed from around the corner followed by, “What the fuck are you doing!?"

Oh how Reiner hated Marcel.

Reiner was ready to punch Marcel in his stupid little face. He and Bertholdt unlinked hands and rushed to the back yard. Marcel stood holding a running garden hose before a wet Annie and Mikasa. The girls glared as they held their arms out, black sleeves dripping.

“What’d you spray them for?” Reiner asked.

“They were kissing,” Marcel replied, his tone uneven. He probably thought it would be hilarious instead of suicidal.

Annie bolted over and yanked the hose from Marcel’s hands, spraying him straight in the face. Reiner cackled.

“Ah, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Marcel cried, raising his hands to protect his face. “Stop! This sweater’s dry-clean only!”

Annie lowered the hose and soaked his sweater.

“Uh,” Bertholdt began, “guys—”

“Oh, water fight!” Sasha exclaimed as she, Galliard, and Pieck appeared from inside.

Annie smirked. “Yeah. Water fight.” She turned the hose on the Sasha, making the brunette yelp.

“That’s enough, Annie,” Mikasa said, marching forward. “I think the one who showed us a bad movie and tried to get us to do salvia and peyote should pay next.”

Pieck held her arms out. “Bring it.”

Mikasa took the hose from Annie and sprayed Pieck up and down. The other girl let herself be soaked.

“Do them next,” Galliard suggested, gesturing to Reiner and Bertholdt. Mikasa sprayed him instead. “God damnit!” He wiped the water from his face before reaching down and grabbing a hunk of dirt. He hurled it at Reiner, striking him in the chest.

“What the fuck, man!?” Reiner protested. “ _She_  sprayed you!”

_I shared my romantic troubles with you, you asshole._

He took his own handful of dirt and struck Galliard in the chin.

“Oh, that is it!” He started for Reiner when Mikasa wet them both.

“Dirty, dirty boys,” she said.

The rest was a blur. Each of them getting a turn with the hose as well as having a mud ball fight. Spreading across the yard and making quite the mess. Annie, Mikasa, and Bertholdt were the most skilled fighters. Reiner was impressed—taekwondo skills really did translate into real life.

“There he is,” Reiner said, peeking around the corner of a tin shed and spotting Galliard shielding Pieck. “You ready for this?”

Bertholdt licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah-huh.”

He gripped the large mud ball he had formed, containing bits of mulch and grass. He had been saving it just for Galliard. He threw it at his target. “That’s for second grade!”

It hit him in the shoulder and he started to throw one back when a new voice yelled, “What is going on?” Pieck’s mother, Roda, stood outside. She was the spitting of her daughter. The same permanent look of contentment on her face.

The eight of them stopped dead.

Roda bore no traces of anger, her head merely cocked in confusion. “I’d ask if you were stoned but no one who’s stoned has this amount of energy.”

“No,” Pieck said, holding the running hose and making a pool of murky water by her wet shoes. “This was totally organic.”

* * *

Roda offered them all change of clothes and a quick shower. The guests would take their muddy garments home and return their borrowed ones when they could. Lax as ever, the woman let Mikasa and Annie double up for their shower. Though Reiner doubted they did anything risque under the circumstances.

The bathroom door opened indicating the previous user was decent. Reiner was sure Marcel had been the last one in so he entered the tiny space.  
Reiner stopped, breath catching in his throat and pupils going wide. It wasn’t Marcel. It was Bertholdt.

He’d seen him change shirts in the time Reiner had fallen for the guy, but this was something else. He stood dressed in dark pants, rubbing his damp hair with a towel. Beads of water still clinging to his torso. Taekwondo had done his body nothing but favors. As slim as ever, but with the most delectable muscle tone. A barrage of impure thoughts filled Reiner’s mind.

“Hey, you know you’re covered in mud?” Bertholdt teased with a boyish smile.

How was it possible to be so adorable and so hot at the same time? And was Bertholdt doing this on purpose? Making jabs at him outside and allowing him in when he was wet and half-naked. Would Bertholdt Hoover really be as forward as to do that?

Reiner thought he just might be.

And two could play at that game. Reiner said nothing and lifted his sandy shirt over his head. He tossed it in the hamper as Bertholdt’s vision lingered on his body, a blush creeping up his neck. Satisfied with the reaction, he released a sated breath and stepped over to the shower. He couldn’t act obvious.

He looked over his shoulder at the blushing boy. “Sorta my turn there, Bertl.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He grabbed the black shirt from the linen shelf.

Why not kiss him then? With all the heat between them, the time was perfect.

“Hurry up!” Sasha yelled from the next room. “I have to pee!”

Reiner sunk. “Use the other one!”

“Pieck’s little brother won’t let me in!”

Oh how Reiner hated Pieck’s little brother.

Though he supposed he didn’t really want his and Bertholdt’s first kiss to be in Pieck’s cramped bathroom with a giant opened box of Tampax Pearl Super Plus a feet away.

* * *

Reiner couldn’t concentrate to save his life. Finals were fast approaching yet the earth science book before him might as well have been in pig latin. All he could think of was Bertholdt. Galliard’s ‘just grab him and kiss him advice’ was still the plan. And he decided he needed to do it in a setting without any other people to ruin the moment.

He shook it from his head. That wasn’t what he needed to focus on now. Marcel was with him to help study. They both sat on the end of Reiner’s full-sized bed, books, pencils, and notepads strewn about.

Marcel lay down on his side, jostling the study supplies around. “Reiner?”

He kept his eyes on the book. “Yeah?”

“I quit. I quit learning and I quit adulthood. I’m just gonna be a trophy husband. I don’t want to go to college and have a career, but I also don’t want to live off my parents. So option number three, find a nice cougar and be her arm candy.”

“Well, rich older women have an extensive screening process for trophy husbands that requires intense studying and—”

He buried his face on the bed and whined. “Why, Reiner? Why?”

He chuckled and tapped the open book page. “Why don’t you get Galliard to sit on your back?”

The brothers had developed the study method in middle school. One would lie on their stomach while the other perched on their back. The physical pressure paired with the fact they couldn’t get up helped them concentrate. Reiner and Bertholdt tried it a few times, but neither could get past the fact there was  _someone sitting on their back_.

“We’re too heavy for that anymore,” Marcel replied, rolling over.

“Or not enough. I’ll sit on your back.”

“No, no, no. You’ll crush me you muscley freak of nature.”

“Then you won’t be able to move at all. No choice but to study.”

Reiner figured this might be a good time to ask him about Bertholdt. Any resolution offered by Marcel might get his mind back on earth science. “Hey uh,” he began, “sort of on that subject of courtship, what am I supposed to do about Bertholdt?”

He looked up. “What do you mean?”

“You know how I feel, right? Annie told me everyone does.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“Your brother said he told you to stay out of it though.”

“Yeah, well. We both figured it best. I mean look, I didn’t have to spell it out to you. Which is great because a lot of times you are oblivious to the most obvious of things.”

He crossed his arms. “I am not—nevermind. He also said I should just grab Bertholdt and kiss him.”

Marcel sat up. “You didn’t ask him for advice, did you?”

He shrunk back. “Yeah.”

“Reiner, under no circumstances  _ever_  ask my brother for advice. Why did you ask him?”

“Neutral third party.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, forget everything he told you. Do not just plant one on him out of nowhere. Bertholdt wouldn’t want that.”

“You think?”

“Yes!” He was getting his classic crazy look. “God, I am never staying out of anything again. No, you know what? I can’t believe  _I_  listened to my brother’s advice. This is a disaster. No, wait, I can fix this.”

“Marcel—”

“No, no, no, we’re both overthinking it. What you need to do is stop thinking about it and it will work out. It’ll happen when it happens. Stop asking for advice and just let it happen.”

Reiner fiddled with the dull end of his pencil. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

* * *

Reiner was seventeen and Bertholdt sixteen when they had their sixth kiss.

Bertholdt’s house was just as much home as Reiner’s own was. The two-story bungalow always filled with him a familiar calm. Reiner had many cherished memories with his friends, but the ones shared with just Bertholdt were his fondest. Like carving sloppy shapes into the back patio doorframe when they were nine (marks that were still there). And telling Bertholdt he could trick his parents into thinking he cleaned his room by sweeping everything under his bed.

Marcel was Reiner’s best friend too, but there had been something extra special between him and Bertholdt from the day they met. Like there was a piece of themselves they kept just for the other.

Reiner and Mina conversed on the sofa while Bertholdt took a needed shower after his martial arts class. More post-bathing Bertholdt was just what Reiner didn’t need. As it made it near impossible to focus on his conversation with Mina.

“Bertl actually lifted me, like bench-pressed me the other day,” Mina said. “It was so cool.”

Reiner nodded along. “I know, he has such a strong body.”

_Fuck. That was gay._

She giggled. “Ha. Yeah. You do too.”

Mina—the randy little minx—had had a crush on both Reiner and Marcel for a while now. Bertholdt just shook his head and changed the subject whenever he or Marcel teased him about it. He wondered what the fourteen year-old would think if her brother and his friend who she lusted over were to become an item.

“Hey,” Bertholdt greeted, coming into the room freshly-bathed. The scent of lavender wafted over. Reiner had already been a sucker for lavender before, but on Bertholdt it was intoxicating. “So you gonna hang out with us tonight?” he asked Mina, taking a seat by Reiner.

_No! No! No!_

She shook her head. “No. Too much homework. I’m gonna stay in tonight. That’s why I didn’t go with mom and dad.” She rose to her feet and left with a wave.

_Phew._

Bertholdt took his backpack from the coffee table and unzipped it. “I went a little overboard here.” He pulled out a hefty box of oatmeal creme pie snacks.

Reiner breathed in a small gasp. Those things were his weakness. His hands moved independent of his body, tore open the box, and snatched eight of the twelve.

“Hey,” Bertholdt protested. “That’s more than half.”

Reiner cradled them in his arms. “Shhh, he can never love you like I can.”

He plucked two from his arms. “Nope.”

“So, you want to do any studying at all?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“We’re gonna  _fail_.”

“Maybe you will, I was studying with Armin.”

Armin had a genius IQ and spot in the school’s advanced placement. Pieck did too, but Armin’s teaching ability was a bit above Pieck’s. She tended to overuse metaphors when offering solutions to problems. She often spoke of the ‘holistic’ side to pre-calculus.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” Bertholdt added. "I know you will." He looked behind him to the shelf of over a hundred DVDs and VHS tapes. His father spent a lifetime collecting them. The shelf spanned the entire wall. Spending hours watching the various movies and TV series was another memory Reiner and Bertholdt shared together. Especially when they snuck and watched R-rated films unbeknownst to their parents.

“Just pick one at random,” Reiner said. Bertholdt shut his eyes and pulled out a box set. “Oh, not Buffy season  _four_.”

His eyes bulged at the sight of it. “No, definitely not.” He put it back and took season three instead. “Much better.”

They watched three episodes and ate their share of the dessert snacks. Four for Reiner before he was stuffed, and six for Bertholdt the bottomless pit. Bertholdt also had a glass of iced Diet Dr. Pepper—his favorite. The dripping condensation on the glass wetting his fingers and Reiner thought—as cliche as it was—how lucky that glass was to be touched by his fingers and brushed by his lips.

He was pathetic.

Bertholdt eventually stretched out on the sofa and rested his feet in Reiner’s lap. Of course there was no way not to, he was almost as long as the sofa itself. Though his friend had grown oddly quiet after an hour. His expression flat as the images danced across the screen.

After turning off the TV, Reiner knew this was it. The house was quiet. The two of them alone. Bertholdt sat up and bit his nails. That was odd. He had stopped that nervous habit. Maybe he was nervous about this?

Yes! He was just nervous.

Reiner scooted closer, a rush of excitement exhilarating him. “Hey, so you—” He blinked when he saw Bertholdt’s chin trembling. Huh?

Bertholdt burst out sobbing and buried his face in his hands.

Reiner almost jumped. “Whoa, whoa, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”

He lifted his head enough to say, “It’s my mom. She has... she has leukemia.”

His heart dropped. “Oh, oh shit.” He wrapped an arm around his quivering shoulders. “When did you find this out?”

“Two days ago. I—I haven’t told anyone outside the family. I didn’t know how to. It’s not good. She’s only thirty-nine, she can’t...” He collapsed into Reiner’s arms and wept onto his shoulder.

“Bertl, I’m so sorry.” He had dreamed about holding him, but not like this. Bertholdt’s mother, Gianna, was a stellar woman. Hell, Reiner liked her better than his own mother. His own eyes prickled with tears. “Does Mina know?”

He sniffled. “Yeah. Bet she fooled you too into thinking nothing was wrong, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to ruin tonight because I knew I’d act like this. Oh well.”

“Don’t worry about ruining anything.” He gripped him tighter and without a second thought, shut his eyes and placed a kiss on the top of the his head. His lips lingering when Bertholdt gave no protest.

“What’s worse is I can’t even stand to be around her. I—I can’t look at her without thinking about if she dies, and how awful the chemo could be. I just want to shrivel up into a ball and cry whenever I see her. I can’t even be there for her because I can’t keep it together. Mina and dad are spending so much time with her. Mina called in on her dance recital yesterday but I went to practice yesterday and today no problem. I didn’t want to go to that play with them tonight because I didn’t want to be around her.”

A moment passed as he absorbed the information, unsure just how to respond. “Why do you think you shouldn’t shrivel up into a ball and cry? What would she do if you did?”

He pulled back, face wet with tears and eyes puffy. “It’d just make it worse! If she sees me lose it then that makes it feel all the more real. Dad and Mina cried, they were upset, but nothing like I’m doing now. It—it’d just make her feel worse.”

“She doesn’t care  _how_  you’re there for her, she just wants to you be there even if that means losing it. And the more you try not to the worse it’ll get.”

“She might  _want_  that, but she doesn’t  _need_  that.”

“You need to just be with her. No matter how you react.”

He shook his head and buried his face in his hands again. “Ugh, god, I’m making this all about me. It’s about her, but I'm all about how  _I_  can’t take it.”

“Look at me,” Reiner said, and Bertholdt reluctantly looked back up. Reiner placed a hand on the side of his friend’s neck. “You wanna know something? You said you've tried to be more like me, but I have always,  _always_  tried to be like you.”

“Why?”

“Because you were that nice kid who came over and helped me up on the playground that day. Dad left, we’d just moved here, I had no friends, and was terrified of this new school. But you and Marcel didn’t care about any of that. You were so strong for me when I wasn’t. I was in awe of you two, couldn’t believe kids as cool as you would give me the time of day. I always emulated Marcel, you know? Wanted to be as outgoing as popular as him. But you, it’s you I’ve tried to be like most of all.”

His eyes were wide, dried tears staining his cheeks. “How… how have you been trying to be like me?”

“Well, you’re solid like a rock. Anyone can complain about any damn thing and you’ll care about it like it was your own problem. You never judge anyone. And I wasn’t like that before. I only cared about me and my mom and what my problems were. Then you came along and gave a rat’s ass about this worthless That worthless kid wouldn’t have been the first to run over if they saw another one fall down. That's how I try to be like you.”

Bertholdt shook his head. “But—but I’m failing that now. I’m not solid.”

“No, and my point is that you of all people deserve to not have to be so solid all the time. Especially because I know you’ll be okay later even if you’re not okay now.”

He dried his eyes. “You always say the nicest things to me. I... don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just think about it.” He slid his hand from his neck closer to his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

It would be easy for Reiner to kiss him then. And he wanted to  _so bad_ , but he couldn’t take advantage of his vulnerability to make a move. What mattered was Bertholdt and his mother, not Reiner and his desire.

So he let Bertholdt fall back into his arms.

* * *

Monday morning came sooner than Reiner would have liked. Two exams were scheduled for that day and he felt he wasn’t ready. He had not studied at all over the weekend. Circumstances made it impossible. Bertholdt eventually told those closest to him about his mother. Marcel hovered like crazy. So much so Reiner had to tell him he didn’t literally need his bed made for him.

Reiner shut his locker door as Bertholdt rummaged through his. Dark circles beneath his friend’s eyes indicated he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“Bertholdt!” Annie’s voice echoed in the halls. She was the only one who hadn’t been able to see him over the weekend. Bertholdt closed his locker with a small yawn and watched as she trotted up to him.

Her arms flew around his waist and she gripped him in a tight hug. Reiner gaped, never having seen Annie give someone a hug. Bertholdt was still a moment before returning the embrace.

“Do you remember my grandpa?” Annie asked.

“I do,” Bertholdt replied. Her grandfather had died of throat cancer when Annie was nine.

"I have an idea what this is like." She pulled away and straightened her black dress. “And I want you to pretend this is a fight. Your mother’s illness and these stupid exams are your opponent. You have to have a clear mind to win.”

He gave a curt nod. “That’s right.”

Reiner could have given Annie her own hug. Though he figured controlling his urge to embrace her would be a better thanks.

They filed into the classroom for the first exam and took their seats. Galliard and Marcel sat at the desks beside Bertholdt. Pieck had already taken her AP exams, but came in while the tests were being prepared. She gave Galliard two antacids from her purse and massaged his shoulders. Reiner chuckled under his breath. Pieck then moved over, gripped Bertholdt beneath his arms, and hugged him.

“Oh. Everyone’s hugging me today,” Bertholdt said.

“Do you need any antacids?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Alright then.” She released him and left with a wave.

After a few moments, Galliard leaned over and tapped Bertholdt’s shoulder. “Hey.” He held out a palm-sized gold four-leafed clover. “My lucky charm. I want you to borrow this for the tests this week.”

Bertholdt stared at it. “Uh, no that’s okay. It’s yours. You always have that for exams.”

“Look, you never ask for anything, but I’m giving you something whether you like it or not. So take it.”

He took the clover from his hand. “Thanks.”

He leaned back over. “Yeah, I just want it back as soon as exams are done.”

“Of course.”

Bertholdt traced his fingers over the edges of the charm with a faint smile.

First Annie gave him a hug, then Galliard let him borrow his famous luck charm?

_I’m not the only one who loves you._

* * *

Reiner was still seventeen and Bertholdt still sixteen when they had their first real kiss.

The week passed and exam period ended. Afterwards, the seven spent Friday evening together at the Galliard’s home. Reiner, Bertholdt, Marcel, and Annie sat on the edge of the in-ground pool wetting their bare ankles. The sun had just dipped below the horizon.

“You gonna swim?” Marcel asked Annie.

Annie shook her head. “Nah, Mikasa’s not here. No reason to sidestep my exhaustion and jump into a tiny bathing suit and jiggle around. Didn’t bring it anyway.”

“Yeah. Without Sasha I don’t see the point either.”

“‘Cause you got dumped,” Galliard said, paddling through the water.

“I was not dumped. She just wanted Connie all along. Had nothing to do with me. I was being a respectable gentleman and stepped aside so she could be happy.”

“I can’t believe you got dumped the same week I officially got a girlfriend. I can’t believe I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”

Marcel kicked water at him. Galliard lunged forward, grabbed his foot, and tried to pull him in. The other three scooted away from the struggle so they wouldn’t be splashed. Galliard almost succeeded in pulling his brother into the pool, but Marcel was able to climb to his feet. Reiner snickered along with Bertholdt and Annie.

“I don’t think a lovely girl like Sasha likes guys who frequently piss themselves when they laugh too hard.”

“That happened only twice in the past five years,  _Porco_.”

“Damnit, don’t call—”

“Porco, Porco, Porco—”

“Stop it!”

A beach ball struck Galliard in the face. Pieck stood on the other end of it. “Don’t fight.”

Galliard beamed. “Look, it’s my girlfriend of which I have one of and you have zero of.”

“Who just hit you with a beach ball,” Marcel said.

“Hey, come here before you prunify,” Pieck said, picking up a towel and urging Galliard forth. He obeyed, climbing out of the pool with a smirk and letting her wrap the towel around him. “I put on Hell’s Kitchen for us to watch, piglet.”

The others snickered again.

Galliard let out a small growl. “Pieck…”

The two mumbled something else to each other as they headed inside.

“You know,” Annie began, lifting her legs from the water, ”I’d like to see that too.”

“Yeah, me four,” Marcel added, getting up and following Annie inside.

Reiner and Bertholdt were silent, both continuing to marinate their feet in the water. The reflection from the illuminated pool waves danced across Bertholdt's face. He looked more at peace than Reiner expected.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how much has this week sucked?” Reiner asked.

“A hundred-and-four,” Bertholdt replied.

“I’d have said a hundred-and-ninety-two.”

“I hate numbers. Saw too many of them this week.”

“Yep." He paused. "I haven't been wanting to pry, but how’ve you and your mom been?”

He took a deep breath. “A few days ago I cried in her lap.”

“And did she declare you a weak waste of space?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “No.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Reiner’s fingers ran across a chip on the pool’s rim. He was surprised it hadn’t been repaired. He and Marcel had made it by throwing rocks into the water one day. Much to the horror of Marcel’s parents.

His mind drifted to that period of time several years prior. Reiner and his mother had neared foreclosure on their home. Karina’s mountain of student loan debt and bad credit being a long-time hurdle on their finances ever since Reiner’s father left. The crisis made it uncomfortable for Reiner to go to his Marcel’s house as their comfortable lives was a slap in the face.

So Reiner avoided him and failed to mention his and his mother’s dilemma. Marcel accosted him one day and forced it out of him. Unkind words were spoken. For a period, he hated him for being gifted an easier life. Bertholdt was caught in the middle. Having to find time to spend with both of them and trying to calm the tension between the two. Again, he was the solid one.

All eventually worked out for the better. Reiner and his mother were narrowly able to avoid losing their home and Reiner apologized to Marcel. He had done nothing wrong by being born into a wealthy family. His parents were honest people and worked hard for their money.

Reiner gazed at Bertholdt as he watched the water. The situation was reversed this time. Bertholdt the one burdened with the possibility his world might crumble due to something utterly out of his control. And really, he felt Bertholdt was doing far better than he did. Bertholdt hadn’t taken his problems out on one of his closest friends.

He was so strong.

Bertholdt rested his head on Reiner’s shoulder. He was unsure what the implication of that was, but was far too tired to mull it over. Simply being there with him was paradise.

“Hey, Reiner?” Bertholdt spoke up after a minute.

“Mm-hm?”

“I’m in love with you and want you to be my boyfriend.”

Reiner’s breath caught in his throat, his heart stopping dead. Did Bertholdt just say that? No, he must have nodded off and was dreaming. That was it. A dream.

“I—what did you say?”

Bertholdt remained in place, still nuzzling his shoulder. “I love you, and I hate that you’re not my boyfriend. It’s really stupid. You’ve been stressing over when and how to do this, right?"

Reiner almost pinched himself to prove this really was a dream. Instead, he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. It hurt. He wasn’t dreaming. “Y—yeah,” he answered. "I have."

“Why?”

“I… I guess I was just afraid that you’d say no. That admitting it would ruin everything, and put you on the spot. The usual stuff.”

“I thought so.” He lifted his head to look at him. “I know nothing will happen to you, but ever since my mom I realized I can’t afford to put things off. To just wait and hope you'll do something about it.” He began to lean in. "Instead of doing it myself. You said yourself I was capable."

Reiner’s stomach fluttered as their lips neared. “Because you are.”

Bertholdt placed a hand around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. The thousand different times Reiner had imagined kissing him couldn’t come close to the real thing. Their lips brushing together in soft swipes. Reiner wrapping an arm around his friend’s back to steady himself, because if he didn’t he would surely lose balance. A dizzying array slick saliva and rough surface of his tongue. Reiner bit at his bottom lip a tad and Bertholdt made a low hum in his throat.

He felt like he was flying. On a wavelength above the clouds. Everything in the world fading into obscurity and becoming only Bertholdt. They continued for a minute, eventually smiling against each other’s mouths and Reiner rubbing up and down Bertholdt’s back. Separating, Reiner lacked the strength to open his eyes. And only when he caught his breath did the sharp chlorine scent remind him he was at Marcel’s house by the pool.

“Oh… my god,” Reiner managed, eyes fluttering open.

Bertholdt nodded. “Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed from his back and grazed his arm with his fingernails. “Bertl.”

“That’s my name.”

“So uh, what—what now?”

He straightened. “I think… we should go inside. I do like Hell’s Kitchen.”

At first, he thought it odd to just get up and join the others. But unlike Reiner had anticipated, there was no anxiety and confusion after taking that step in their relationship. There was nothing more Reiner wanted now than to take his hand and join their friends.

They both got up and dried their feet with the remaining towel. Slipping on their shoes, they linked hands and headed inside. The rest had gathered in the living room while the TV sat muted on commercials. Pieck nibbled a box of Cheez-Its while Galliard halfway leaned on her, taking up the entire sofa for himself.

Marcel and Annie sat on the floor by the coffee table. Annie’s bat-shaped purse open and its makeup peppered across the table. She lined Marcel’s eyes with black pencil.

“Don’t tell me the punk is back,” Reiner said, taking a seat beside Bertholdt on the leather loveseat. He placed a hand on Bertholdt’s thigh, making sure to get as close as possible.

“I’m just practicing on him,” Annie replied. “He has such a good eye shape for this look.”

“I really do,” Marcel agreed.

Galliard unmuted the TV as the show resumed and shushed everyone.

“Don’t blink so much,” Annie told Marcel.

“How am supposed to not blink?”

“Pretend I‘m a weeping angel.”

“Shhh!” Galliard warned again.

“We were whispering,” Annie said with an eye roll.

“If you were whispering, I wouldn’t have been able to—” Pieck put her hand over his mouth and another finger over her lips. They silenced.

Galliard idolized Gordon Ramsay and clearly wanted to be him. Stemming from his desire to be a chef—or more likely his desire to scream obscenities at people for a living. Though his cooking was something special. Every dish almost bringing a tear to Reiner’s eye from its delectableness. It was Marcel whose cooking skills were not to be trusted ever since he laced a chocolate cake with ex-lax in fifth grade.

Bertholdt hooked his arm under Reiner’s, yet no one gave them a second glance. Reiner supposed it wasn’t all that unexpected. An hour passed, Annie doing a total of two attractive on Marcel looks with red glittery shadow. Bertholdt's warmth seeped through his clothes and into Reiner's bloodstream. It felt more like relief than anything to finally be this close to him. Like they were always meant to be.

After the show ended, Reiner went to comment on it when he noticed Bertholdt had fallen asleep against him. His head resting against his upper arm. He had that look of a puppy who played too hard and fell asleep half-standing again. Reiner's stomach fluttered again.

Getting up, he gently laid him down and slid a pillow under his head.

Annie was rummaging through her makeup bag while Marcel took an endless stream of selfies.

Reiner glanced to Bertholdt’s sleeping form again, noting a dotting of drool at his mouth’s corner. “Hey, Annie,” he began, “think you can try something out on sleeping a model?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Really? You want me to put makeup on him while he's asleep?”

“Perhaps.” Boyfriend now or not, this was too tempting.

“Sleep  _is_  when all us here look the most beautiful,” Pieck said.

Reiner chose to ignore that comment. Images of Pieck photographing them in their sleep entering his mind. She wouldn’t… would she?

“Alright,” Annie said, carrying her bag over and crouching beside Bertholdt. “This probably won’t look right since I’m having to do it with his eyes closed, but…” She took a pencil with aquamarine glittery liner.

“You’re terrible,” Galliard said. “Aquamarine’s a hideous color.”

“It’ll bring out the green in his eyes,” Marcel said.

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it—nevermind.”

Reiner knelt beside Annie as she dragged the vivid color across his top eyelid. “Oh, Bertholdt,” he began, “I love you so much, but if given the opportunity to put makeup on you in your sleep, I have to take it.”

No reaction to telling Bertholdt he loved him. Alright then.

Annie cracked up as she started on the other eye.

“Annie, are you actually laughing?” Marcel asked.

She pursed her lips. “Nope. I can do this.”

Reiner started laughing too, placing his hand over his mouth as not to wake Bertholdt.

“Ugh, this is hard to do without primer. Plus his lids are all sweaty.”

Pieck leaned forward. “His eyelids sweat?”

“Yeah,” Reiner answered. He was starting to think he had hyperhidrosis.

Annie carefully lifted his closed lid so she could get to the bottom one. He didn’t move the whole time she applied the makeup. He really was exhausted. Reiner insisted they let him sleep, and they went their separate ways.

After playing a few games and conversing with the others for a few hours, Reiner went back into the living room to check on him. Bertholdt had rolled over onto his side, leg hanging off couch’s edge. He hated to wake him, but he moved over and crouched down, shaking his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s almost eleven. We should be going home.”

Bertholdt’s eyes opened and Reiner got first sight of the eyeliner. It did bring out the green.

“You’re gorgeous, you know.” He meant it as a comment on the makeup, but  _god_  he was always gorgeous.

Bertholdt smiled lazily. “Reiner.” He leaned forward and kissed him.

Reiner sunk into it, running his hands through the hair the nape of his neck. Smacking their lips together and sending his body buzzing. Opening his eyes for a moment, the sparkly aquamarine made him laugh against his lips.

Bertholdt pulled back. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t wait for you to see it on your own.” Reiner took his phone from his pocket and switched it on front camera.

He took the phone and heaved a sigh. “Really? Makeup?”

He laughed again. “Annie did it, but it was my idea.”

“Of course it was. I expect nothing less.” He handed the phone back and sat up. He ran his finger across his eye and saw no residue came off. “Oh no, is this some sort of waterproof?”

“You don’t watch Annie and Mikasa’s Youtube channel, do you? They always use waterproof.  _Kat Von D_ , Bertholdt.”

“I do watch it, I just find a lot of it boring.”

“Eh, it’ll come off eventually. You’ll live.”

He smiled and ran a ran through Reiner’s hair. “Yeah. I’ll definitely be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering tacking onto this universe as there are a few things I wanted to include but couldn't fit in. I was originally going to introduce Gabi since I made the point of Reiner having no close family. That and the unresolved issue of Bertholdt's mother's cancer HOWEVER there will be no tragedy there. Promise. ;)


End file.
